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Salsa at the Peacock Theatre |
Camden theatre| Peacock Theatre| review| Havana Rakatan| Salsa | Cuba
HAVANA RAKATAN
Peacock Theatre
ENGLISH people only dance with irony: paralytically drunk, with no sense of rhythm, and in very short bursts lest anyone think you take yourself seriously.
On the rare occasions we address this shortcoming, we choose salsa – the only dance that women can take their man to without making him feel like a woman.
The salsa studio is a strange world of painfully emerging physicality: the young couples who fancy themselves as sex kittens, the bopping middle-aged man who hasn’t danced for 20 years (maybe never), the sensual hip-wiggling teacher, Lord of the Expressive Inadequates. About two-thirds of the way through Havana Rakatan there was a “Salsa Class moment”.
“Get up, get up, dance dance,” cried Michel Pacheco, one of the lead singers with the excellent band. And everyone did.
Apart from the inevitable couples who’d been manically practising, we all desperately tried to keep up, wondered if anyone was looking, and tried to look like we were loving it.
It was as close to wild and spontaneous exuberance as the English get (that is, having to be asked to do it), and you kind of feel the band leaders and the dancers were secretly thinking: I’ve been dancing since I was four – you will never be as fluid or fun or as naturally or easily sexy as me.
That’s exactly the attitude that’ll stop you from ever learning to dance, though it’s easily felt, as I have never seen such a line-up of physically stunning dancers, both male and female.
Dancers get reputations as body fascists – but if being a good dancer involves looking like this I understand why. The first half of Havana Rakatan takes us on a journey through the origins of Salsa from its African tribal roots through its street development in the Havana slums.
If the pseudo dramatic “sketches” are a bit contrived, and the musical tone a bit monotonous, the second half is where the show really soars. There’s variation with the Mumba, Bolero and Rumba and no drama, only dance. This isn’t just salsa either, fusing contemporary, ballet and jazz styles together. It’s also a reminder of what we lack these days: a truly widespread street dance culture.
Nida Guerra’s show is a riot of pop-Latin dancing – fun, manic and slightly trashy, in a Saturday-night-TV kind of way. There’s also free post-show Salsa lessons on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. All levels welcome. Tempted?
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